Not So Safe Afterall
"Not So Safe Afterall" is a compilation of three stories written by Loco123456. Our Story Stops Coming to a Stand (imspired by learning about the workings of automatic train control. Not modern train control. Train control that the GWR created: http://mysite.du.edu/~etuttle/rail/atcgwr.htm) (While learning about ATC and how it was created by the GWR, I learned about signals: https://signalbox.org/signals/semaphore2.htm) Molly was puffing along the line with a goods train for Crovan’s Gate. “Come on kind lemon,” said the trucks. “We know how much you want to bump us. Got the courage to face your fear?!” “Of course I’ve got courage,” said Molly angrily. “I suppose all this niceness must stop!” She banged them hard. The trucks groaned as they pulled into the yard. The fireman uncoupled her, and then climbed back into the cab. “Now off to the Works,” said her driver, opening up the regulator. “But I’m in good condition, aren’t I?” “Of course you are; you need to be equipped with some new equipment for the new train control system the Fat Controller is installing all over the Main Line.” In the Works she was lifted up into the air so the workmen could work on the underside of her cab, which was a part of her frames. “How exactly is this new system giong to work,” she asked curiously. “There’s going to be a contact shoe attached underneath your footplate.” “But what does that have to do with the controlling aspect?” “There are ramps along the line; when the distant signal is at ‘danger,’ the ramp will rise. It’ll be placed about a good way from the distant signal.” “How far?” “I’m just a workmen, not a platelayer. Anyways,” he went on, “when the contact shoe hits the skew placed on the ramp, your vacuum brakes will come on and bring you to a halt.” Within a few days Molly was ready to return. “We’re off to Tidmouth,” declared her driver. “Control needs a few extra engines for goods traffic.” Excited to be in steam again, she raced light engine, being checked in passing loops along the way to let the others pass through with their loads. At Tidmouth Sheds, Spencer was being prepared to pull an express. “What a joy it is to run over the ramps! I’m sure that any nervous engine will be reassured that the line ahead is clear.”.” “Perfect for an engine like you,” said Spencer. “At any rate, I think it’s an excuse to look splendid for the public.” “Oh, so I suppose having little water and getting stuck on Gordon’s Hill shows how reliable you are for getting people to their destinations on time ,” she teased. Spencer, now having plenty of steam, crept angrily out of the sheds. As he backed down onto the coaches he gave them a bump. “Oh, oh oh,” they wailed. “There’s no need for that!” “There is then,” he muttered. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Spencer leaves Tidmouth with a nonstop express called The Barrow Flyer, which always leaves exactly at 11:40 am. “How rude he is, how rude he is,” grumbled the coaches as Spencer bumped them as they left the station. This became a running theme, for along the line up to Wellsworth there were a few speed restrictions due to track maintenance. Each time they had fully passed the platelayers Spencer yanked them to get up some speed. “Come along, come along,” he grumbled. “We’ll show him, we’ll show him,” they said, concluding that they’d teach Spencer a lesson. They shot up Gordon’s Hill, and as they descended, the coaches surged forward. “Oh no,” wailed Spencer. “Please STOOOOP!” His crew applied his brakes, but it was no use. “If anything the train control system will help.” “PIP! PIP! PEEEEEP! I’m out of control!” The signaller heard the warning and set the distant signal at “danger.” As the signal changed to yellow, the ramp rose. Spencer’s contact shoe banged against the skew on the ramp. The vacuum brakes were applied, and the train stopped directly under the signal. When they were ready Spencer whistled to the signaller that he was ready to continue his journey, and with that he puffed off making sure he didn’t bump the coaches. The stationmaster angrily waited for them as Spencer pulled into Barrow Central a half-hour late. The second Spencer came to a halt the doors opened and people flooded out; many were cross and were standing round the stationmaster, who had his whistle and blew it to silence them. As he slumped off to the sheds Spencer could hear the passengers complaining. “Our journey was uncomfortable!” “It turned into a runaway!” “I have empathy for you folks, for I’m cross with Spencer too. But here’s what we can do until Spencer can be dealt with; all passengers travelling to London shall use their tickets they had for the Barrow Flyer. The same shall be done for the people going into town.” Once he had made the arrangements he went inside to his office to telephone Barrow Control. “Hullo, Barrow District Control, Brent speaking...I see...we’ll try our best to find another engine. Goodbye Sir.” Brent then went to speak with his control superintendent Mr. Jones. “Right; we’ll have Henry, who arrives at 5:50 with an express goods take the Up 6:10 Barrow Flyer. Molly arrives at 7:35 with a slow goods. She can take over Henry’s express goods to Crosby. Now, please telephone the Yard Manager and relay everything I told you to him. I’ll deal with calling the Fat Controller.” Spencer sat in the sheds all day, and he didn’t get a visitor until that night. “I shall take away your coaches,” said the Fat Controller crossly, “and you shall do shunting duties here. Then you’ll know all about coaches and trucks.” “But I don’t w-” “Then I suppose you can stay in the sheds for a couple of months?” “No Sir, sorry Sir.” The next morning Spencer started work; the tank engines and diesel shunters all laughed at him. “I thought tender engines don’t shunt,” chuckled Sidney. “Apparently this one does,” laughed a tank engine. Spencer sighed and went on his way, taking some express coaches to the platform. Breaking An Entry (inspired by a real event: http://www.railwaysarchive.co.uk/eventsummary.php…) (PLEASE NOTE: Donald appears in his RWS appearance.) Henry was standing at the platform; while he waited for his coaches he read an advert posted on the wall. “For an extra 2 pounds, send your luggage in advance by road to your final destination.” “What does the Fat Controller think of us? He must think we’re not strong enough,” he grumbled to himself. At last Spencer arrived. “I thought streamlined engines like you were fast. I guess I was wrong.” “We are fast,” snapped Spencer. “My first day on probation and I’ve already had enough of shunting!” “You poor engine,” said Henry sarcastically. Spencer angrily puffed back to the yard. Henry was pulling the 12:20 Maron Crave; he ran cheerfully along, but when he arrived at Maron his mood quickly changed to being cross. There was Elizabeth, with porters who were unloading luggage out of her tipper. “You’re helping out?! An old lorry helping out an express - rubbish!” “First of all, it’s vintage sentinel lorry. Second, Topham says that I’m fit for this work.” “You’re only fit for carrying flour sacks.” “And you could care less about your passengers. All you engines care about is flying along the line. But then you have to be concerned for delays like track maintenance or an accident. Then there’s the usage of an avoiding line. Us lorries have more options of getting round accidents and traffic jams, while you engines have so little due to not being able to easily climb hills.” Before Henry could respond, Elizabeth, who was now unloaded, strolled off to the lorry garage to wait for her next job. A few weeks later a driver arrived at Elizabeth’s garage at Maron. “Where’s Sems?” “He’s on holiday. I’m Pete, and I’ll be looking after you.” “Then we better get going - we have our first job at 12:10 at Barrow.” “You don’t have to tell me old timer. I have a schedule given to me via the Maron Lorry Garage.” Elizabeth angrily slipped out of the Garage and onto the main road. “Old timer! Old timer,” she fumed. Pete soon sped her up to the speed limit, and in busy places a little over the speed limit. “Sems wouldn’t go over,” she said crossly. “I’m just keeping up with traffic so we can get to Barrow in good time before the Maron Crave is ready for passengers to board.” They arrived at 11:45; by then there was a load of luggage waiting for them. By noon she was loaded and they took off for Maron. Things were fine passenger wise, but not for the goods. The Yard Manager was speaking with Spencer’s crew. “The engine who was to take this fast construction materials train is late. You’ll have to deliver it to Kellsthrope.” Spencer was delighted; he buffered up and once coupled set gently off. As he was leaving Henry was coming out of the sheds so he could trundle over to the platform to wait for the coaches. “Oi, come back here! I need someone to fetch my coaches!” “It looks we’ll be doing that,” said his driver, as he looked round, seeing the other shunting engines busy. Spencer was running nicely - until he was checked at the drawbridge. The road one was lowering as the ship finished passing under it. He noticed a lorry roaring across it. “I hope that lorry doesn’t spoil my fun,” he thought crossly as the drawbridge began to lower for him to come across onto the island. The speeding lorry was Elizabeth. Pete was going a little faster than he had on the way to Barrow. Due to this, he was braking hard at traffic lights and skidding round bends.was now b “I’ve held my tongue far too long, and I don’t like it,” she thought angrily. “Pete, you listen to me. Stop wearing out my brakes RIGHT NOW! Topham isn’t going to like this - he’ll probably have you sacked!” “We’ll see about that,” scoffed Pete. They only had to cross one more level crossing on the eastern side of Maron and then in a half a mile be at Maron station. But the gates were closing as they approached. Pete tried to brake but her brakes stopped working completely. One of the two signallers saw her dangerously appraoching and began to telephone the signalbox prior to his. “It’s too late to stop the goods train I just sent your way,” sighed the other signaller over the phone. SMASH! Broken wood was scattered everywhere. Elizabeth stood in the center, with the gates on the other side still shut. As Pete got out and went to the nearby signalbox, which operated the gates via lever. The signaller was on the phone when he barraged in. “You lousy driver,” said the signaller, slamming the phone back into its place. “You’ve put a crew and its engine in danger. Don’t you know that engines ALWAYS have right-of-way at crossings?!” Pete tried to think of an excuse, but nothing came to mind. “You better stay with me. I was on the phone with Maron District Control, and they’re sending help for the engine, and the authorities for you.” Outside, Elizabeth sat sadly on the crossing. Then- “PEEP! PEEP!” Donald came rushing straight for her. His crew applied the brakes, trying their best to make the best of a bad situation. They bailed out. CRASH! Donald laid on his side with his front badly twisted. Elizabeth was also badly damaged too. She had broken tires, and the wooden sides of her tipper were broken, which allowed some of the luggage and wood to fall on top of Donald. Yet, not everything that was happening on the railway was crazy; Spencer had arrived at Kellsthrope and was waiting for a goods train from Kirk Ronan Harbour to come for him to take back to Barrow when the Yard Manager came up looking serious. “There’s been an accident at the level crossing near Maron. Please take the breakdown gang and help clear the line.” Spencer was soon leaving the yard with the cranes, workmen and tools. When he arrived Edward had brought a breakdown gang from Wellsworth to help out too. They’d just finished lifting Donald’s tender back onto the rails. Butch was also there too. The breakdown gang from Kellsthrope and Wellsworth helped pick up the scattered wood and lugagge. Then the cranes lifted Donald up for Butch and his crew of workers to tow Eliziabeth to the Repair yard. After calmly swinging in the light breeze Donald was finally back on the rails. Spencer then remembered his goods train and became worried about being in trouble. But by the time he returned to Kellsthrope Yard the Fat Controller was there. “You were really useful today,” he said proudly. “Never mind the goods train; I had another engine take it for you. Besides, after today’s rescue, you deserve to go back to your usual duties.” Spencer was glad to be pulling the Barrow Flyer again, and although the accident had cause a few delays and the lost of a driver, it had some good in it too. It had brought attention to the Fat Controller that the level crossings weren’t safe. So he ordered that all level crossings have sirens to alert drivers of gates closing, and to have lights for protection at night. Head On NOTES: Donald appears in his RWS form. Mark, is a member of Edward's class. Bill and Ben appear in their RWS form. Inspired by an event at Hull. While Donald was at the Works being mended, the Fat Controller had to assign Donald’s work to another engine. James was having a rest at Tidmouth Sheds when the Fat Controller came to see him. “You’ll be doing Donald’s work until he returns. You’ll start tomorrow.” “I’ll do my best Sir,” said James, pretending to be excited when really deep down he was furious. The Fat Controller knew this and smiled as he went off to his car and back to his office to deal with other matters of the railway. The next morning at six o’ clock James was backing down onto a goods train. “Cheer up,” said his driver. “At least we’re pulling an express goods of a variety of food for Kellsthrope.” “What’s the difference? It’s still a goods train!” “Ah, express goods trains run a scheduled timetable, just like the passenger services.” “But it’s still a goods train,” grumbled James as he puffed out of the yard at Tidmouth. Many miles away, on the eastern side of the railway, another engine was beginning his own journey. The engine was Mark - a maroon 4-4-0 who worked on the Kirk Ronan Branch. He was at Ballahoo to collect a slow goods train. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” assured his driver. “If it were an express goods then I wouldn’t be in a bad mood! Besides, all this shunting about of uncoupling of the brakevan, add or remove trucks, reattach the brakevan and away we go! And on top of that we get stuck in passing loops and don’t get to the Harbour until late afternoon.” His driver ignored Mark’s complaints as he opened the regulator. Ballahoo was on a branch called the Norramby, but the station was also served by the Kirk Ronan and stopping trains from Barrow. With the line being quiet, Mark cheered up a bit, but he was soon back at being cross as they arrived at the junction to get onto the Main Line. “We were running so nicely,” hissed Mark as he waited in the passing loop. “PEEP! PIP! PEEP! Hello useless engine,” called Gordon as he rushed through with the morning train of the Wild Nor’ Western. A half-hour later Mark was able to continue to Crovan’s Gate. James, on the other hand, couldn’t get a full rest; his train was due to arrive at Kellsthrope at 2:05. It wasn’t until he reached Wellsworth that he got to stop in the yard for a drink. “Where’s Edward,” asked the driver. “He’s pulling a slow goods to Brendam,” replined a shunter, who started to look round to find an engine, and he did - in fact, he spotted two tank engines. He rushed over to them, and soon the twins arrived bunker first behind the brakevan. “Two tank engines! As if they’ll be any help to us,” said James rudely. “Alright then. We’ll just go back to the Clay Works,” said Ben. “And leave you here to arrive late,” added Bill. “I suppose we weaklings wi-” “I’m sorry for being rude,” said James hastily. “Please help me!” “PEEP! PEEP! We’re ready,” whistled the twins. “PIP! PIP! Let’s go.” The three engines gave all their might to get up the hill. They finally reached the top. “PEEEEEEEEP! Thank you,” whistled James. “PEEP! PEEP! Not so weak now, eh James,” called Ben. But James had already gone halfway down and didn’t hear him. Just like James, Mark was feeling cheerful once more. He had arrived at Kellsthrope, and was beginning to chuff back onto the Main Line up to the Junction, and then be switched back onto the Ronan Branch, in which he could run as fast as he was allowed. Up in the gantry signalbox there were three signallers. “Mark’s train is running to time,” said the telephone atentent, who had just hung up from speaking with Kellsthrope Yard Manager. “Better get things set for Mark,” said a signaller named Grant, who went over to a random lever and pulled it. “Rubbish! Pulled the wrong lever! Now James will be in trouble.” “No he won’t silly,” laughed another signalman named Zane. “We’ve got interlocking on our box, remember? The locking bars on the points are set in place for James to proceed on the correct line into the yard.” Then Zane, hearing James’ whistle, pulled a lever. He had started to put the signals behind James’ train at ‘Danger,’ which went against railway rules. The locking bars on the points were disengaged, and Grant’s wrong lever move was set in place. Outside on the rails, James glided on the crossovers onto another line. He was still going at a steady pace. Very soon he would be slowing down to got at 5mph into the yard. “Now this is how a goods train should be run,” chuckled James. “At Kellsthrope I can get a nice rest and th-...” Ahead was Mark, puffing slowly along with his train. “STOOOOOOP JAMES,” said Mark frantically. “I CAN’T! I cAAAAAAN’T!” Both crews exited the cabs of their engines. CRASH! When everything was silent again the crews went to inspect the engines. “Damaging engines’ fronts must be a popular repair for the workmen,” said James’ driver, trying to make a joke to loosen the seriousness. “Ha, ha! Very funny,” mocked James. “Can’t you see I damaged Mark’s funnel when I shot upwards upon the impact? Speaking of which, what were you doing on my line.” “As if you own this part of the Main Line,” grumbled Mark. “What were you thinking, running onto the same line that another engine might be on!” “The signallers are to blame for this,” said Mark’s fireman sternly, in order to calm the engines down. “We shall protect all lines, report this to the signallers, and get help!” A few hours prior to the accident Donald had passed the final safety inspection, and was having his steam pressure built up for a goods train to take to Crosby. He smiled as he waited eagerly to leave; he didn’t expect to leave too soon. “We’re to help clear the line,” said Donald’s driver urgently as he ran up to Donald. “Is his steam pressure high enough yet?” “Nearly done,” called the fireman. Donald was soon coupled up the breakdown train and was shunting it to the accident scene. Upon arrival another engine was there with a breakdown gang from Kirk Ronan. Both workmen, crews, and the engines worked removing the unhurt trucks first, then taking care of putting the two engines, one at a time, back onto the rails. Amongst this, the Inspector was speaking with James and Mark’s crews. “We didn’t know about Mark being on our line,” explained James’ driver. “We saw the signals going down, but didn’t see anything strange, so we kept puffing on.” “And we left when we got the right-of-way from the guard and signalman at Kellsthrope,” added Mark’s driver. “I see. Now, don’t look worried; I know now that neither of you four caused the accident.” Once the rescue was complete, Donald shunted the two damaged engines back to Crovan’s Gate, while another engine came take the express goods. The engine from Kirk Ronan would be pulling the slow goods. They were put in a passing loop at Kirk Ronan Junction. “Thanks for the lift,” called the Inspector, who went over to the staircase. He was expecting the wrongdoers to lie to him, but instead Grant and Zane met him at the door way. “We’re the ones who caused the accident Sir,” said Grant gloomily. “Well, I’m pleased to see honesty from someone. I usually have to deal with lies. However, you two broke railway rules, so I’ll see to it that you never step foot into a signalbox again.” Grant and Zane were replaced within a few days with permanent signalmen. As for James and Mark, they waited a long time before one of them - Mark, was chosen to be the first from the accident to be repaired. He returned in early October, and James followed a couple of weeks later. But every since their collision, they’re very careful whenever at a signalbox. Category:Stories Category:Fanfiction